


Carcanet

by lovehugsandcandy



Series: Necklace Trilogy [1]
Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 18:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20157796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehugsandcandy/pseuds/lovehugsandcandy
Summary: Colt despises when Ellie wears that necklace.





	Carcanet

He spotted it as soon as she started walking down the stairs, almost as obvious as the bright smile on her face and laughter in her voice as she looked back to talk to that asshole. Colt rolled his eyes at the look of absolute adoration on Logan’s face as he trailed behind her like a fucking pet. He was the puppy and that necklace around Ellie’s neck was the leash, connecting the two of them by a flimsy piece of cheap metal he wanted to snap with his bare hands.

Colt seethed, hands balled into tight fists, turning his attention back to the engine in front of him. She didn’t wear the necklace all the time, only occasionally, but often enough for him to notice every single fucking time she did it, the shining silver drawing his eyes like a magnet. 

He hated that necklace.

He fucking _hated _that necklace. He hated the asshole that gave it to her. He hated that it had a place of honor on her body, dangling between her breasts like an illicit pendant touching her chest. He hated that Logan’s eyes followed it, hypnotized, watching it as if it were no mere decoration and instead was a mark of possession. 

The only time he didn’t hate it was when he could watch it sway as he thrust into her during their secret nights, hidden away in his bed, away from the world and, most importantly, away from that asshole.

He watched her and the puppy dog as they crossed the shop floor, heading out through the open bay doors; she shot him a small smile as she passed but it neither calmed the boil in his blood nor stopped the narrowing of his eyes.

He ran his hands through his hair, frowning, and resolved to get back to work. But even with his arms covered in grease, even with his hands calloused and sore from turning hefty wrenches and tiny screwdrivers, the only thing he could see behind his eyelids was the sparkle of silver and the dangling of a spark plug. 

~~~~~

He waited. 

He had washed the grease off, the oil stains between his fingers proving stubborn as hell. He had straightened up his room, a task made easy by the fact that he had so few possessions in his shitty accommodations in the back of the shop. He had tried to watch some TV but couldn’t follow the plot, some fantasy adventure Toby surely knew all about and could quote at him ad nauseam until he wanted to gouge his own eyes out.

Now, he was just lying in his bed, waiting, watching the shadows travel across the ceiling, trying and failing to keep his thoughts at bay. 

Finally, after an eternity, he heard the unmistakable creak of the floorboard in the hall, the light footsteps only audible because he was focusing so intently.

He quietly snuck from the bed and, as soon as he heard her feet land right outside his door, he yanked on the door knob, raising his eyebrows when she jumped.

“Were you not expecting me to be here?” He opened the door wider so she could enter, just glide on in like she belonged here. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to be waiting for me.”

He turned, eyes scanning down her body. “Yeah, you were.” She was in her pajamas, hair falling in careful waves around her shoulders as if she was daring him to muss it up, to wind his fingers through her hair and send her back upstairs wild and untamed.

And, of course, she had that damn necklace on, shining even in the dim light of his room. She told him once that it was meant for luck, Logan gifting it to her before the Grapevine job, when no one knew how easily she would take to the life of fast cars and faster scores. She joked that they were all lucky that it protected her that night and every subsequent night since.

That didn’t help with his jealousy; instead, irrational as it was, he resented it more. How could she think she needed protection derived from Logan, of all people? She needed nothing from that punk; anything she needed should be provided by Colt himself, that asshole be damned. The fact that she thought she needed anything from his replacement made his face hot, his fists clench, and his mind spin.

“You look lost.”

“What?” He blinked, his focus returning to her face, gaze trailing over her eyes, the strands of her hair, trying to avoid looking down at the distraction nestled between her breasts.

“You definitely weren’t paying attention to me.” She sat on his bed, peering up at him. “I asked how your repair went.”

“What repair?” If that necklace wasn’t a distraction, the sight of her perched on his bed was; it always hit him like a punch to the gut, knowing she would roll around here and sleep somewhere else. 

“Today? In the shop?”

He sat on the bed next to her, so close his thigh was pressed into hers. “Really? Is that who you came here to discuss?” He threaded his hands through her hair, lying back and gently taking her with him so he could pull her close.

She giggled and burrowed her face into his neck, nose tickling as she wriggled closer. “You know, even without that jacket perpetually on, you still smell like leather.” He could feel her smile against his skin.

Colt would never say it but he thought she smelled like sunshine and some kind of vanilla shampoo; he secretly loved to bury his face in her hair, filling his lungs with the smell until he thought his lungs would burst. Now, whenever he smelled vanilla, she was all he could think about, her and the nights where she was over him, on top of him, all around him. 

He ducked his head for a gentle whiff then nudged her up so he could capture her lips, trying to pull himself from his head, to lose himself in her warmth as she slid over him, her hands slowly edging up under his shirt until he obliged, pulling it over his head. When he pulled her down for another kiss, the necklace dangled, spark plug falling onto his chest, the metal warm from being so close to heart. His hands clenched reflexively around her hips and he had to mentally focus so he wouldn’t squeeze too hard, always careful with the fragile skin and bone.

He fucking hated that necklace.

He pulled back to take her shirt off, eyeing the chain as it draped around her neck, before capturing a nipple with his mouth. She threaded a hand through his hair; normally, he loved it, the scratch of her nails and the tug of the strands more than enough encouragement for him to devote more time to worshiping her body. But today, the slight shift of her body meant that the chain hit the side of his face.

He had to stop, to lie back down; he was so close to taking it off her neck but, when he saw her, eyes closed and cheeks starting to flush, he just couldn’t. 

If he wasn’t going to remove it, he might as well use it.

He twined his hands through the necklace and pulled, gently bringing her face to his so he could kiss her, soundly. By now, he knew what she liked, teeth finding her lower lip, a gentle tug that made her hands clench at his sides, his tongue darting out to soothe the skin before finding its way into her mouth to swallow the soft sighs he could pull from her. 

Her lips and tongue meet his with single-minded focus as he fingered the necklace, metal sharp in his hand. It took everything he had not to use the distraction of his lips to his advantage and snap it, just rip it clean off of her, find a weak joint or clasp and just tear it from her neck. She would never forgive him but the impulse was still there, to get this piece of that asshole away from her.

And then inspiration struck. If he couldn’t get rid of this fucking necklace, he would give Ellie one of his own.

He pulled back so he could roll her over, on her back, sliding on top of her and peppering soft kisses down her face, to her ear, further down. He pulled her hair from her neck, thick strands like a curtain framing the smooth skin, the soft curves. He started here, ducking his head to trail his lips over her, knowing he found the perfect spot by the sharp intake of breath. He got to work, teeth and suction making her sigh, clutching at the bed sheets beneath them. He pulled back, studying it with a smirk. Good enough.

He moved on, sliding his lips to the left, just an inch, just enough that anyone with eyes would be able to figure it out, and started again. She was still moaning, pliant putty beneath him, every fantasy he ever had made flesh, writhing, her teeth pressing deep indents into her lower lip. With one last bite, enough that she hissed underneath him, he moved on.

And started again. 

And again and again and again as she shuddered and trembled and mewled his name in that low tone that made his cock twitch, desperate to be joined with her. While his mouth was occupied with its crucial work, his hands traveled her body, tender strokes and long caresses that ended right where Ellie needed him to be.

"_Oooh_...." 

He could listen to that sound for hours, the noise she made when he parted her folds and slowly slid his finger in, stroking her walls and curling his fingers just so, reaching inside her to where he could run circles around the spot that made her legs twitch in response. Another finger, another nip of his teeth, another low moan that was music to his ears. Fuck, it was hard not to get distracted when her voice got that needy edge, a whine that told him that he was the only thing on her mind. 

But he couldn't get distracted, not with this. He needed those marks to stay, needed his marks, _his _necklace to be embedded in her skin.

Once he had traversed her neck, he sat up to check out his handiwork. It was uneven, some marks already deepening to a dark purple while others were only slightly red on her skin. They also weren’t spaced out well, more of them crowded along the sensitive sides of her neck, where the curses that fell from her lips only egged him on, making him devote more time to the skin beneath his teeth. Oh well. Next time, he’ll bring a ruler.

He grinned. It resembled like the charm bracelet she wore on her wrist sometimes, ornaments all different sizes and shapes. He didn’t mind that piece of jewelry, actually enjoyed when she wore it and the delicate trinket would clank as she held onto his headboard. The charms around her neck didn’t make a sound but spoke volumes with their placement and intensity. He grinned wider.

Damn. Jealousy might look bad on him but fuck, his lips looked good on her.

“Colt?” Her eyes were hazy, pupils blown wide open as she blinked, trying to focus on him. He put that look on her face, _he _did. No one else.

He didn’t answer, only slid the shorts from her legs, hands covetously touching every inch of the smooth skin, and nudged her onto her stomach, pulling her up on her hands and knees so he could work over her nape. It was trickier to move the fucking spark plug necklace out of the way as it hung, grazing the bed below her; it made him work harder with each kiss, teeth working in small nibbles to create the deepest bruises and pull the deepest keens from her throat.

He only managed three marks here, partly because no one would look at the back of her neck, and mostly because he couldn’t wait another goddamn minute. The expanse of her back was on full display, her ass nestled so close to him that he could grind into her every time he bent over, every single one of his senses so consumed with her curves under his hands and her skin on his tongue and the vanilla in his nose.

It was too much.

He couldn’t get his pants off fast enough, thrown somewhere in his room before he kneeled on the bed behind her. At this angle, it was so easy to line himself up and slide in. She was so wet, so wet for _him_, that it only took one smooth stroke, steady pressure as her body welcomed him, his hips meeting hers. He swiveled his hips and it only took two thrusts before he found the right spot

“Oh God, Colt.” He dropped a hand to her waist to steady her as his other hand traced from her neck down to her breasts, skating over nipples already peaked in arousal, down her stomach to her clit, fingers mapping patterns that made her legs shake, the tremors underneath him driving him mad as he thrust deeper. 

He could see flashes of silver as he moved, when he pushed into her with just the right amount of force, the spark plug keeping time as he entered her again and again. He swiveled his hips and moved a touch harder, reveling in the deeper tone her voice made. The chain swung beneath her, trailing over his sheets and marking the steady beat of his hips; that asshole definitely did not intend to gift Ellie a metronome so Colt could create a symphony of moans and breath, music designed to be enjoyed by him and him alone. He kept up the pace, the tantalizing friction of her walls as he moved causing sparks to lick up his spine, pleasure building as her body just kept pulling him in. 

“Oh God…_baby_.” He grinned, increasing the tempo of his fingers, hips moving just so, just how she liked. She only called him that when she was close, the endearment slipping from her mouth like honey, when she was so out of her mind with pleasure that she couldn’t think straight, breath falling out of her mouth as pants and gasps for air. This was something no one else could do, something that was just theirs, rest of the world be damned.

He loved watching her like this, sliding into oblivion as his body joined with hers just right, knowing just where to touch inside her, just where to swivel his thumb once, twice, three times... 

And then she came, a shaky inhale followed by a desperate sob, echoing in his empty room, her arms giving out, forehead falling to the bed as her core shook, fingers curled into his sheets as if she needed something to hold onto as her body floated away, mouth gasping her name into his sheets.

He was so close, so fucking close, the feel of her clenching around him, her smooth walls tightening in a rhythm that forced his hips to stutter. Two more thrusts and then, all it took was his fingers tracing over the design blooming unmistakably over her skin, fingers sliding underneath the silver to press into _his _marks. Once he did that, he was gone, his release coming in violent tremors as the world turned white and pleasure was forced through his veins in violent spasms.

After, once they both collapsed onto the mattress in a sated huddle, he had to smile. The rosy marks on her skin looked better than any cheap ass piece of scrap metal ever would.

~~~~~~

Colt was in a daze, had barely managed to respond when Ellie rolled out of bed, muttering something about cleaning up before heading off to his bathroom. He probably should rise as well but he was so content, lying in the afterglow. He vaguely heard the running of water, some footsteps, and then a shriek. “Colt, what the _HELL_?” He lifted his head as she raced back into the room, stopping in front of his vanity, eyed trained on the mirror. “What in the-” She leaned in to get a closer look at the ring of love bites around her neck. Eyes narrowing, she fingered them one-by-one, pressing down with a hiss on a few purple marks.

He smirked and stood to watch her. The deepest ones would last for days. She could wear that fucking spark plug as much as she wanted; these, she couldn’t take off.

“Are you a goddamn vampire?!?“ She studied him in the reflection of the mirror with an assessing gaze, eyes wide.

“They look good on you.”

“Jeez. It’s like a neck-” She caught his eyes in the mirror and Colt felt his stomach drop. “-lace.” Now that he wasn’t focused on creating blooming marks over her skin, he supposed it was a bit obvious in retrospect. She turned to face him, eyes appraising, cheeks blooming to match her chest. He swallowed. “I wear it to piss you off, you know.”

“What?”

“The necklace?” She fingered the silver strand around her neck. “I wear it on purpose.”

“What.”

She bit her lip and took a step closer. “I know it drives you crazy.” She took another step closer, coy smile playing on her lips. “I know you hate it.”

He felt struck dumb. She knew all along?

“Jealous boy.” She stepped even closer, his biggest challenge and his biggest reward; her voice darkened, losing its fond edge as her next words were raspy, a sultry tone that inflamed him. “You don’t need to be mad. He might have given me this necklace, but you know I give you _everything_.“

He moved before she could react, hands circling her so he could push her on the bed underneath him. She only smirked, looking up impetuously, threading her fingers through his hair. He could only shake his head at her, this conniving temptress, ducking away from her touch so he could crawl between her legs. 

“Wha—_oooooh_.” Her voice dropped to a wail as his determined mouth found her inner thigh. 

These marks? _No one_ else was gonna see these.


End file.
